


33.3

by nomical



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Cannibalism, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mental Instability, Parallel Universes, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomical/pseuds/nomical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh is faced with the unpleasant task of cleaning out the family's junk yard of a basement. He expects to find a lot of broken appliances, dust, and maybe some mouse shit. What he doesn't expect is to find are three weird looking totems that show him three very different versions of the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	33.3

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karmula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmula/gifts).



> Happy holidays monetrepreneur! I hope this fits the bill for a Josh-centric exploration piece. As soon as you said you shipped Josh/Chris and Josh/Sam, I immediately thought of doing something with the totems and multiple versions of the future. It's my first time writing for this fandom and I had a lot of fun so thank you for such an awesome prompt! And of course a big thank you to my (offline) beta and the mods for running this monster of a fest :).
> 
> Note: I've warned for homophobic language because there's one instance of a character thinking a derogatory term towards himself during a panic attack. That is the only mention of homophobia, internalized or otherwise.

"Make sure you get to the boxes under the stairs too, we're going to need all the space we can!"

"Okay, Mom!" Josh shouts up the stairs.

He surveys their disaster of a basement and sighs. The family has been using this as a dumping ground for decades now and his parents are certifiable if they think it's going to be clean by Christmas. Half the stuff down here probably isn't worth saving anyway. But they're all supposed to do their "part" to make the house presentable for when the extended family arrives. He just had the bad luck of picking a program without written tests and is therefore already back home on winter vacation before the girls are done with their exams.

He kicks despondently at the nearest box and is rewarded with a cloud of dust puffing comically out through the cracks. The entire basement smells musty, like old wood and petrified mouse shit, and it's playing havoc with his sinuses but he knows he's only delaying the inevitable. Hunkering down, he rips open boxes at random, pulling out what's his and leaving the rest for the others to go through.

Smell and dust allergies aside, it's sort of nice going through all his old shit. He finds an entire collection of old horror movies which will be great for the next time his pills decide to not work and he faces a bout of insomnia. There's also an entire host of relics from a long forgotten childhood: a catcher's mitt, a teddy bear with one eye missing, an unopened pack of Pokémon cards, and a toy train kit. They bring with them a weird barrage of memories - feelings and moments that he can somehow remember without a fog of depression hanging over them. It's weird as hell and he tries not to think about it as he boxes them all up again and slaps a yard sale sticker on the lid.

He's debating whether or not he's made enough progress to call it quits and take a lunch break when  a small chest catches his eye. It's got less dust on it that the boxes surrounding it and he can't remember ever seeing it before. A heavy iron latch holds the lid in place but it slides out easily enough. Inside the box are three wooden carvings, each done in the style of the First Nations art his Mom is so fond of. They're a bit ugly for his liking and he's about to shut the lid on them when a little window in the middle of one of them starts to glow. He's a bit worried he's starting to hallucinate again but as soon as his fingers make contact with the smooth wooden body he's hit with a much bigger problem to worry about.

***

He's in a dark room, listening to a CD player pound out a song with too much bass. The smell of alcohol pervades the air and makes him feel drunk by proxy. He's sitting in a circle on the floor with Hannah, Jessica, Matt, and Chris. All of them are giggling. Directly across from him is Sam, her head cocked to the side with one eyebrow raised.

"C'mon big man, you going to do it or what?"

He looks down and sees a bottle pointing at her. Someone elbows him and he starts crawling on command like his body knows exactly what to do even if his brain hasn't caught up yet. Sam smirks and makes her way forward, meets him in the middle.

"Make it a good one," she says with a wink.

He doesn't know what's happening and it's more than a little terrifying but this is Sam - brave, funny, beautiful - Sam, and somehow everything about this feels okay. She closes her eyes and God, she smells so good, so Josh closes his too and tilts his head down. His lips brush hers in the barest hint of a kiss when all of a sudden he's kissing air.

He opens his eyes and the scene has changed. He's on a beach with golden sand beneath his feet and warm sun beating down on him. A huge ocean stretches before him and he can just make out a couple of surfers riding the waves in the distance. There's a shriek somewhere to his left and he turns to see a sodden Jessica doing her best to splash Matt. Emily rolls her eyes at them and angles her tanning mirror to get better exposure. Just beyond her, Mike and Hannah are lying on a blanket and seem to be trying to get written up for public indecency. A brief moment of brotherly rage passes through him, but Hannah looks like she's enjoying herself and she's clearly capable of handling the douche bag on her own. Watching everyone do their thing so normal it's surreal. He's fairly confident they've never all been to a beach together, but it feels completely right that Beth and Ashley would be volleying a beach ball between them and that Chris would be studiously working on what looks like a sand recreation of Barad-dûr. It's so normal that he's actually starting to freak out a little because how is any of this real?

A hand grabs his ass and he starts at the contact only to hear Sam's throaty laugh. It knocks him out of his own head enough that he can refocus and when he does it's to see Sam looking hot as hell in a red bikini.

"I need to get you in board shorts more often. Who knew you had such a round butt? You could bounce quarters off that thing."

She wraps her arms around him and pulls him in for a kiss before he even realises what's happening. This time he gets to experience the full kiss: warm and firm like they've done this a hundred times before. Sam steps back far sooner than he wants her to and he chases after her lips like a duck tailing its mother. She laughs but it's full of warmth and her eyes twinkle.

"Save some of that for later, tiger. We've got to break in that plush resort bed tonight."

She turns to look out at the water but keeps one arm wrapped firmly around his side. It's kind of cute that she's so tiny compared to him, and he tucks her back to his chest, arms circling her middle. Her head is the perfect height to rest his chin on so he does it, soft hair tickling his neck.

"Yuck, what do you say we put a stop to the love fest happening over there?"

She nods in the direction of Hannah and Mike, and Josh couldn't agree more. Sam doesn’t wait for an answer though; like she can read his mind.

"Hey Lovebirds! Chicken fight, right now!"

Hannah jumps to her feet enthusiastically and Mike groans, flopping face first in the sand.

"It's okay Mike, we'll give you a few minutes to let your boner deflate," Sam hollers at him.

Josh laughs and lets himself be pulled along as Sam leads him towards the ocean. He takes his first step into the water but instead of meeting the waves he meets solid ground as the world shifts around him again.

He's in bed with Sam, duvet pulled up to their chins and dim light shining lazily through the window.

He's in the editing lab at school, different bits of footage on each monitor and an obviously homemade golden statue on his desk with the inscription _Best Director 20XX, Love Sam_.

He's at a concert, Chris and Ashley on his left, Sam on his right, all of them going wild as the guitarist nails the solo.

He's on a red carpet, flashes going off like quick-fire and far too much noise pressing in from all sides, but Sam looks radiant in a long pink dress and her smile chases away his anxieties.

He's standing at the end of an aisle, Chris and Mike beside him. All heads turn as one as the doors open and the organist starts to play.

***

When he finally comes to, he's lying flat on his back, a cold sweat dripping down his neck. The totem, or whatever it is, is clenched in his fist, even though he can't remember taking it out of the box. Shakily, he sits up and scrubs a hand across his face.

What the hell had that been? Is this some new bullshit side effect of his meds? Has he finally gone full cuckoo for cocoa puffs crazy? Or did the totem actually give him some kind of psychic vision? He's about to file that one away under things to never tell his shrink when  an ominous glowing catches his attention. The window on the totem shaped like an eagle shines brightly, like it's trying to draw him in and get him to touch it.

He hesitates, hand outstretched just inches from the box. While he's not exactly thrilled to be protagonist in some kind of Native Voodoo  campfire story, part of him really wants to see what new visions the totem brings. Even if he's just completely imagining everything, he hasn't experienced the kind of peace and happiness he felt when he was with Sam in…well fuck, in forever. It's not like he hasn't pictured what it'd be like to be with Sam before - he's only human after all (and he's fairly confident every one of the guys in their group had a crush on her at one point) but he'd never really put much effort into those fantasies because he knows they were doomed to fail from the start. Why would someone like Sam, who seems to have boundless energy and love for life, ever want to be with someone like him? Hell, most days it's a struggle to get out of bed, let alone have enthusiasm for the day. But in those visions he'd felt so alive.

The totem beckons him, twinkling like an old friend. His last thought is _fuck it_ before he lets his hand drop on top of the eagle's head.

***

He's at the party again, the same one from the first vision, but this time when he looks down the bottle is still spinning. It slows as it reaches Sam and this time he's going to get it right, this time he's going to surge forward and kiss her with all his might before the scene gets the chance to change. In his eagerness to get to Sam, he starts moving a split second before the bottle stops and he accidentally nudges it just enough that it doesn't stop on Sam but instead stops on Chris.

Chris, who just looks at him and shrugs like this is the kind of thing that could happen to anyone.

Laughter erupts around the circle and Josh freezes.

"C'mon guys, he doesn't have to do it if he doesn't want to," says Sam, arms crossed and a scowl low on her brow.

"Um, yes he does," shoots back Jessica. "Sorry sweetie, I don't make the rules, I just enforce them."

She shrugs like Josh isn't having a panic attack and can't remember how to move his limbs again. He'd be lying if he said he'd never had slightly less than straight thoughts about his best friend before, and yeah he's jacked off to gay porn half a dozen times, but there's a big difference between questioning your sexuality in private and having it thrown out in front of everyone like some cheap party trick. Like he doesn't have enough shit to deal with being the emo kid on meds, he doesn't need to let everyone know he's probably half faggot too. Every cell in his body is shutting down and his brain is screaming _end this, end this now_ but he doesn't know how.

He almost cries in relief when Chris finally shuffles forward.

"It's cool, bro."

Chris cups Josh's face in his hand, his calloused thumbs brushing lightly against Josh's chin. Josh is pretty sure he stops breathing when Chris presses their lips together in a chaste kiss. Around him there are catcalls and jeers but he drowns them out, his entire world narrowing down to the point of contact between him and Chris. When he opens his eyes, he's not surprised  to see that the scene has changed, but he's still disappointed.

Now that he knows vaguely what to expect, the sensation of suddenly being somewhere else is less disorienting. He's in bed with Chris, lying head-to-foot as they've done hundreds of times before since the third grade, but now there's something else in the air beyond the usual feeling of warmth he gets from his best friend. It feels charged, like they're on the brink of something big even if technically he only just arrived here.

"Look, we both know I'm not great with words, but I need you to know I'm not embarrassed about kissing you," says Chris from somewhere near his feet. "You don't have to say anything right now - hell, you don't have to say anything about it ever and we can pretend this never happened, but I like you, man. As in, _like_ like. And I get it if liking dudes isn't your thing but I think it's mine and I'm glad Jessica's stupid game gave me a reason to kiss you because you're fucking awesome and I'm tired of keeping this a secret."

Chris sits up and looks at him. His perennially crooked smile is just visible in the dim light and Josh's heart beats in double time. How long has Chris felt this way? And more importantly, how the hell did he not realise before now? His self-loathing kicks in and makes a valiant effort to become the dominant emotion, but Chris' gaze is steady behind his thick glasses and it holds Josh in the moment. He sits up to meet him and the scene melts away before his eyes, rapidly changing into something new. He prays to whatever deity is listening for that conversation to have a happy ending.

He's sitting on a couch, PlayStation controller in hand, Chris' head in his lap as he taps away on his phone.

He's at the beach, laughing with Chris as they place a final shell on top to complete the sand castle replica of Barad-dûr. Down by the water, Sam has taken Mike's place with Hannah on the blanket.

He's at a bar, Chris' hand in his on top of the table, watching Emily kick Mike's ass at pool.

He's in back in the editing studio, and instead of a fake Oscar on his desk it's a framed picture of Chris ripped from a newspaper with the caption _Local Student Scores Big With New Photo Sharing App_.

He's on a plane, reclining in a first class seat, reading a script and making notes in the margin. A thin ray of brilliant orange light sneaks in under the shade and illuminates a ring on his left hand.

***

Finding himself flat on his back for the second time in that day should probably send up some warning flags but Josh ignores them, too entranced by the most recent visions. He rarely lets himself go down that line of thought with Chris, so unless these are coming from the deepest depths of his psyche, they probably aren't anything he's hallucinating. The only option left then - as fucking crazy as it sounds - is to accept that these are actually showing him the future - or at least versions of the future.

He's never given much thought to the future before, what with the crippling depression and all. Even on his good days, it's hard to picture life more than a couple months down the road. It's easy now, just being a student with clear expectations and assignments. As much as he complains about school, the thought of graduating and being thrown into _the real world_ is fucking terrifying.

But in both these totems the future looks…happy. Worth sticking around for.

It's almost greedily  that he looks in the box for the third time. Sure enough, the last, vaguely bear-shaped totem glows patiently, waiting for him to pick it up. He carefully places the other two back in the box before pressing a finger eagerly to the bear's forehead. What will the future show this time? More of his life with Sam? With Chris? It's hard to imagine a third person in their friend group he could conceivably fall in love with, but maybe there's a mystery person waiting for him out there.

***

He opens his eyes and finds himself walking through a blizzard. His steps are sluggish and he staggers, falling sideways against a tree. He's drunk then, which explains why he feels warm despite being outside in just a sweater. Somewhere to his left, Ashley calls Hannah's name. Her call is echoed by the others, and some call out for Beth as well. He's hit with an overwhelming feeling of dread that pierces through the alcohol and sobers him up fast. What the hell is going on?

The scene changes, far sooner than it had with the other two totems, and this time he's standing in a cemetery. The pastor is standing between twin gravestones, words coming out thick and slow. With dawning horror, Josh sees photos of Beth and Hannah laid on the gravestones. There are no coffins. Around him, his family and friends let out muffled sniffs. The bottom of his stomach falls out and he knows he'll never be happy again.

He's sitting in a plush office chair, across from a balding man with a notebook. The man is talking but he can't make out the words, he's floating somewhere far away, thoughts consumed with hatred and revenge even if he doesn't know what it's directed at.

He's in his bedroom, half a dozen empty pill bottles sit, discarded, on his desk. He feels stoned out of his mind but he takes two more anyway - anything to take the edge off his ever-present despair.

He's in the editing lab, watching and re-watching footage of his sister. He's driven by the need to get the perfect the lighting on the shot as her face melts into one from a horror movie.

He's in a basement, laughing maniacally. In front of him, Chris and Ashley are tied up, a gun the only object on the table between them. Sam and Mike have twin looks of rage on their faces. The only emotion he feels is glee.

He's somewhere underground, hunched over on himself, chewing desperately on a piece of meat that refuses to tear away from the bone. He registers the sound of voices from somewhere behind him and feels a hunger like nothing he's ever felt before. He lunges towards the speaker, intent on devouring the man and sucking all the marrow from his bones.

***

This time when he wakes up, he has to fight a wave of nausea that rolls over him. He can still taste the rotting flesh, can still feel strips of it festering between his teeth. He turns on his side and dry heaves but thankfully nothing comes up - human or otherwise. He feels unclean, the memory of being less than human clinging to him like a wet blanket. None of the totems are glowing anymore and he slams the lid on the box and pushes it into the furthest reach of the basement, breath still coming hard and fast.

He can change that, right? If the three totems all show a different version of the future, he still has time to fix it. The future from the third totem is horrific and so far removed from reality he'd laugh if he couldn't remember the texture of an eyeball as he ripped it from the socket. It seems so ridiculously unimportant to fantasize about who he's going to fall in love with when he's seen the death of his sisters. Seen himself driven mad from it and turned some kind of a freak. But he still has time to fix it. All he has to do is make sure either the first or second version happens first; and quite frankly he doesn't care whether he marries Sam or Chris, so long as the other future is avoided.

He thinks back: the first two visions both happened at a party, so all he has to do is throw a party, right? And the sooner the better. There's no way he'll be able to talk his parents into letting him throw one here - not with the extended family coming over so soon. But maybe if he begs enough they'll let him take the keys to the lodge. It's not like they're going to use it until summer anyway.

This has to be the best option. He'll power through the rest of the cleaning and then call everyone. With any luck, they'll all be back in town for Christmas. He's not exactly loaded, but he's probably got enough in his bank account to cover gas and booze. Yeah, this can definitely work. He can sort out the details along the way, but the more he thinks about it, the more he's sure a party on Blackwood Mountain is the answer to all of his problems. And hey, maybe he'll even have a good time.


End file.
